


The Tour Guide

by Snowy38



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Caring Louis, Fluff, He has a shitty job, Louis is a tour guide, M/M, Shy Harry, handjob, harry writes, so he takes the tour every day, until Louis asks him out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5528669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy38/pseuds/Snowy38
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is there a Shirley Temple here?" Louis asked, still looking at his clipboard as he walked into the waiting area just inside the gift-shop at the opening of the bridge.</p><p>He looked up, expecting to find a pretty curly-haired little girl with her no-doubt proud beaming father. What he got was-</p><p>"That's me." In a deep, slow voice, a tentative hand rising in the air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Part 2 posted tomorrow.
> 
> p.s. I used ALOT of artistic licence with the bridge in case anyone wants to get precise.
> 
> Ang

PART 1

 

It was never much fun in the winter.

 

The icy, biting winds that England suffered cut right across the iron galleys of the bridge and Louis wrapped his arms around himself and shivered.

 

They had fleeces as part of their uniforms, and red, gaudy wind-breakers with the company logo blasted over the back and he often wrapped a scarf around his neck from the gift-store but he could only ever wear fingerless gloves, needing his hands to organise everything.

 

Louis was a tour guide, see. And winter was the worst season.

 

Working on London Bridge was a mixture of an honour and a curse. He got to lead a group of tourists around daily and teach them all about the history of the land-mark, often slipping into other stories and adding funny bits, but in the summer he sweltered in the rugby-shirt and long-shorted uniform and in winter he froze in the slacks and fleece.

 

Still, it was quieter in the cold season. Nicer, somehow. He could be more personal, get to know his crowd a bit.

 

He checked his clipboard, eyes sliding to the number for today's tour. Eight names had been listed - taken at the shop desk. Sometimes people gave silly names like Mickey Mouse not wanting to use their real names but even Louis was amused at the first name on the list.

 

"Is there a Shirley Temple here?" He asked, still looking at his clipboard as he walked into the waiting area just inside the gift-shop at the opening of the bridge.

 

He looked up, expecting to find a pretty curly-haired little girl with her no-doubt proud beaming father. What he got was-

 

"That's me." In a deep, slow voice, a tentative hand rising in the air.

 

The other tourists turned with fond smiles as the young man spoke, taller than the others and big dimples pooling into his cheeks.

 

"Oh," Louis said, a little breathlessly.

 

The guy was wearing a suit with a bow tie. He did indeed have curly hair, in dark rich curls haloed around his head. He looked so young, so cute with his shy pretty smile.

 

"I mean, it's Harry," he added nervously, unsurely. " _I'm_ Harry," he added.

 

"Hm," Louis nodded, regarding him with a narrowed gaze, half curious, half concerned.

 

_Since when did beautiful boys go around calling themselves after girls?_

 

"It's supposed to be a joke..." Harry murmured then, ducking his head from the stares of the group, none of which looked amused.

 

Louis let a rueful smirk perch on his lips.

 

"Well, Shirley and company, if you're ready to roll shall we get this tour started?" Louis asked brightly, brows rising.

 

The eight followed him in shuffles, various winter clothing being added as they headed out onto the bridge.

 

//

 

"...and as you can see, this iron work dates back to the seventies when the bridge was upgraded from it's previous stone arches. It took 3 months to be built and the men who built it were at great risk hanging over the river without the safety devices we have nowadays," Louis shared.

 

"Did anyone die?" Piped up a curious, deep voice.

 

Louis flicked his eyes over the crowd, finding his shrewd blue gaze falling on the tall man again. He'd pulled on a beanie and his curls flicked out from under it, his nose tipped pink and his lips looking slightly swollen, like he'd been kissing but Louis suspected it was due to the fact he kept licking them and then pressing them together.

 

"Two men lost their lives building the bridge, Curly Shirley," Louis answered. "But you're safe under my watch," he added cheekily, earning some chuckles.

 

Harry blushed a bit and tugged on his beanie, checking his watch.

 

"Keeping you, are we?" Louis teased warmly as they strode toward the next information point.

 

Harry swallowed.

 

"I, uh-I came in my lunch-break," he offered with a brow-lift.

 

Louis hummed.

 

"We'll soon have it wrapped up, young Harold," he teased with a crinkle-eyed smile.

 

Harry bit his lip and sunk to the back of the group shyly as Louis launched into his next speech, gesturing around them as he spoke, his high, loud voice perfect for the re-telling of the dark history of London.

 

"Soon after the new iron bridge was constructed, the dungeons were built to recreate macabre historical events. You can visit them separately to learn about their history but let's just say prisoners weren't treated very nicely in the 'old days'..."

 

Harry swallowed as he followed the crowd, leaning over the metal edge to the bridge to see into the waters. He slipped a foot between the railings, getting higher and curling further forward.

 

"Ah, no leaning," Louis' sharp voice warned, tugging him back by his jacket-arm. "Don't want to lose you to the icy depths," he added gently.

 

Harry blinked.

 

"I'm not Jack Dawson on the Titanic," he quipped.

 

Louis smirked.

 

"No, you're more the Rose," he murmured, turning to pass the group to head back to leading duties. He curved a hand and hurled it over his head in a bowling gesture.

 

"Okay you lot, follow me..."

 

//

 

Louis took them through the secret passage which was cut out of the last column of the bridge, steep, stone stairs driving down which the group shuffled around slowly.

 

"Everyone okay up there?" He called back, pausing on a midway landing.

 

Various forms of 'yes' were called back, some in other languages.

 

"Shirley?" He checked, not hearing Harry's low voice and unable to see him at the back of the pack, someway further up the spiral staircase. "Still with us?"

 

"Yep," came the rather shaky reply.

 

Louis signalled for the group to carry on down, telling them to " _wait at the bottom_ ", while he cleared the stairway to check on his rather favourite tourist.

 

Harry was sat on a step as Louis trudged back up the to find him. It wouldn't be the first time someone had freaked out in the cramped, cold space and finding Harry with a shaky hand in his hair shouldn't have been so much of a surprise, but something pinged in Louis' chest.

 

"What's wrong, Champ?" He asked.

 

Harry took some deep breaths, shoulders hunched.

 

"My asthma," he explained quietly.

 

Louis bit his lip. He knew first aid, kept a small kit in his back-pack which he swung off to dig through and find the generic inhaler used by most asthmatics.

 

"Here," he thrust it forward. "Take a couple of shots."

 

Harry turned his shaky hand out of his hair to grasp at it weakly, frowning with a blush as he struggled to get it the right way around to use, expressing it a few times until the medicine worked through the un-used system.

 

He flicked Louis a shy look as he pressed the inhaler to his lips.

 

Louis curled a hand around his shoulder and discretely looked away.

 

"Alright, Harold," he teased.

 

He listened as Harry took two, strong inhalations of the spray, heaving a dry cough out weakly afterwards.

 

"Look, I have to move the others on," Louis told him seriously, blue eyes intent. "But if you want to stay here for a few minutes I can come back for you?"

 

Harry shook his head and handed the inhaler back.

 

Louis slipped it into Harry's jacket pocket. "You keep that one," he insisted.

 

Harry stood up, swaying a bit but with a resolute look on his face.

 

"Sure you're okay?" Louis checked.

 

Harry smiled feebly.

 

"I'm sure."

 

"Alright, easy goes it," he said as he clumped down the other steps, joining the group milling about the belly of the bridge where the metallic organs of the lifting mechanism lay.

 

"Right you lot, hope you got all your photos?" He called loudly.

 

The group gave a collective hum.

 

"So as you can see, the bridge-lifting engine is made of brass and steel," Louis gestured to the workings behind the protective metal mesh gates. "It takes eight minutes for the bridge to rise fully, allowing ships to sail through the centre before returning to it's normal state..."

 

Louis heard the low murmuring of "I know the feeling", and tried not to cackle loudly, biting his lip against a smile.

 

"So, on we go," Louis took them across a narrow foot-bridge to the other side of the clock-work, checking back on the hoard as he slipped down into the darker tunnels leading them through.

 

"The walls here were roughly carved out by the some of the five construction firms that were contracted to build the bridge. They needed access to maintain the bridge's mechanisms and this tunnel was built for that purpose. Please mind your heads as we progress through as the ceilings get a little lower down here..."

 

Louis stood to the edge of the tunnel, letting his flock pass him like always, using his hand to gently duck heads where they looked to be about to-

 

"Ouch," came an annoyed hiss behind him.

 

"Come on, young Harold," Louis planted a palm on his curls - _quite happily he may add_ \- and gently guided him the rest of the way out.

 

Harry rubbed his scalp as he ventured from the tunnel into the better-lit corridor which widened out before them.

 

"Got a bump?" Louis asked.

 

Harry pouted sadly and Louis stared into his big, green eyes, round and almost watery. _Jesus_.

 

"No, m'okay..."

 

"Alright, I'm going to follow up make sure you all get through the next part safely," Louis called. "If you'd like to head through the corridor, you'll find we come to a bell-shaped hole..."

 

The group crowded into the circle, looking up into the narrowed dome of the stone ceiling.

 

"The dungeons link up to the right of this corridor-" Louis pointed to a gated cove. "And the bridge exit is just up here on the left..." he gestured to another set of steep stairs.

 

"What's this bit for?" Harry asked, hovering by Louis' side since Louis had dropped back to make sure he made it out alive.

 

Louis swallowed, eight pairs of eyes on him.

 

"It was fashionable in the 1800's to have caves," he explained. "Although the walkways were burrowed out for the maintenance access, we believe this particular cove was designed to impress the female companions of the upper-class Englishmen who paid tolls towards the bridge's upkeep who would have brought them down here to marvel at the metal interiors of the working motors..."

 

Louis heard a snigger and knew exactly where it came from without flicking his eyes to his left, where Harry's hand brushed his lightly.

 

"It's a snogging hole!" An excited voice tremored with a giggle.

 

Louis managed to stop himself sinking into similarly immature guffaws, propping his hands on his hips as a way to subtly elbow Harry.

 

"Well, shall we move on?" He suggested airily, charging forward and leaving Harry to amuse himself at the back.

 

Soon they moved up the opposite staircase to come out on the other side of the bridge, the view heading downstream.

 

"The odd Pirate ship apparently sailed up these waters," Louis led, voice lowering to a dramatic narrative. "London Bridge had guards to defend the City and some say it became a feared approach hence why not many attacks are known at this bridge..."

 

They walked down the side, all in a line since other tourists were passing by without the story-telling.

 

"We're just heading back to the start-point now...The current bridge was only opened to traffic in 1974, _originally_ it was made of wood by the Romans who built it in the 5th Century," Louis explained.

 

"You can find an extensive and surprising array of gift items in our store to remember your trip by," he added mischievously. "Can I personally recommend the T-shirts which come in every size and colour imaginable..."

 

Once they had tumbled into the shop, it became clear why Louis had mentioned the tees.

 

Harry blinked as he stared at the front of one range available in five colours.

 

'I Saw The Belly of the Bridge...' was printed on the front with an outline of the arches and when Harry flipped it out, he giggled at what was written on the back.

 

'...With Tour Guide Louis Tomlinson.'

 

"Did you commission these?" Harry mused.

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

"No," he admitted, pointing to the cash desk where a dark-haired Asian boy stood, ringing items through the till. "My friend Zayn did. Thinks he has a sense of humour..."

 

Harry tucked a smile into his mouth and lifted down a pink one, checking the size.

 

"Think I'll take this one," he said as Louis watched him with a brow arch.

 

"Whatever you want, Curly," Louis mused. "How's the breathing now, by the way?"

 

Harry swallowed and nodded, peeking at Louis shyly.

 

"Yeah, it's good...um-sorry. Sorry about that back there, I hope I didn't-"

 

"You were no trouble at all, young Harold," Louis cut in. "Enjoy your t-shirt and we hope to see you at the Bridge Belly Guide again soon!" He sing-songed, pirouetting to the next group of tourists who were waiting in the holding area.

 

Louis took the clipboard handed to him by a blonde guy, flicking his eyes over the sheet on it, covered with scribbled writing.

 

"Do we have the actual David Beckham in our midst or is someone royally taking the mickey?" Louis asked aloud as Harry turned to the till.

 

He heard Louis tease the tourist further with 'Suppose you do look a bit like him...' and he didn't know why his chest felt tight again, or why his heart thumped sadly in his chest.

 

//

 

The next day, Louis picked up his clipboard for his lunchtime tour, only one name on it.

 

Normally Niall would tell them to bog off if there was a sole tourist for the lunch-time tour, especially as Louis often missed his lunch break due to extra questions running the tour over it's intended length.

 

So Louis was surprised his good Irish friend had allowed the tour to go ahead. He squinted as he read the name scribbled there.

 

_Shirley Temple._

Louis looked up into the waiting area, finding Harry there, in a pink Tour t-shirt over his white shirt and black bow-tie, a brown paper bag in his hand and a sheepish look on his face.

 

He held up the bag with a dimpled smile.

 

"Apparently I have to get you lunch if I want a private tour?"

 

Louis looked behind him to search for Niall, finding the blonde haired lad helping out in the shop, flicking a wink his way. He arched a brow at that and ignored the insinuation.

 

"Sure," Louis eventually replied to Harry. "You sure you want to go round again?" He checked.

 

Harry nodded.

 

"Didn't get to ask all my questions yesterday..."

 

Louis nodded with a small smile.

 

"Okay, Harold," he agreed easily, taking the brown bag to peek inside. "Best wrap up," he warned of the cold snap.

 

Harry shrugged on a coat he'd laid on the seat, wrapping a red Tour scarf around his neck- apparently newly purchased from the gift shop.

 

"Zayn said it suited me," Harry blushed as Louis watched him with a bemused smirk.

 

He was slightly perturbed that Harry had learned Zayn's name and that Niall had told him to buy Louis' lunch. Like they were setting him up with this preppy office-worker. Like Louis was into _those_ kind of guys.

 

He cleared his throat.

 

"I see."

 

Harry's face fell a bit, his soft green eyes widening.

 

Louis reached into the brown bag and pulled out one half of the sandwich. He took a bite and arched a brow in assessment.

 

"Come on then, Shirley," Louis tipped his head toward the tour start place.

 

Harry's face brightened as he followed.

 

//

 

Louis gave a rather theatrical version of his tour, slipping in the odd personal anecdote and sharing his Twix with Harry as he sat on the edge of the bridge, feet dangling below.

 

"Thought it was dangerous," Harry teased beside him, shivering into his jacket as Louis' hair whipped about.

 

Harry slipped off his beanie and handed it to him. Louis looked at it, stretching it out to slip it on, over his wind-fluffed hair.

 

"Better?" He asked, grinning at Harry.

 

Harry smiled softly.

 

"It suits you."

 

"So tell me, Harold...what really brings you back here today?"

 

Harry glanced away shyly, fiddling with his bow tie.

 

"Just like coming here on my lunch break," he mumbled.

 

"Really? There's a city full of experiences and you just _have_ to come _here_?"

 

"I wanted to find out more about the cave," he teased lowly.

 

Louis chuckled and shook his head, climbing up to stretch slightly.

 

"Better get down there before your break is over then..."

 

Harry nodded and grinned, running a hand through his curls.

 

//

 

Halfway down the steep steps, Louis paused.

 

"Chest okay?" He checked.

 

"Mm-hm," Harry agreed, a little breathless but Louis trusted him at his word.

 

Louis leaned gently against the metal fascia in front of the ironwork in the belly of the bridge.

 

"So, you should probably know the builders brought their mistresses down here," Louis shared warmly.

 

Harry chuckled.

 

"I don't doubt it."

 

Louis leaned back on the railing as Harry leaned into it, right by him. Louis elbowed him a bit.

 

"Should bring your girlfriend next time..."

 

Harry's face dipped, a broad smile splitting his lips and elongating his dimples. Louis could just make out he was blushing.

 

"Um...not-like I'm not..."

 

"Not in a  relationship?" Louis supplied, brows arching.

 

Because Harry was really quite lovely- tall and lean with a shy strength behind those office clothes.

 

"Not _straight_ ," Harry supplied softly, flicking his eyes to Louis' to catch his reaction.

 

Louis sucked in a breath.

 

"Oh."

 

 _Oh_.

 

Well that changed _nothing_ , he assured himself. _Nothing at all_. Harry was a customer, a paying visitor who might never come again. _So, yeah_. Louis had no business getting attached to him. Or his beanie which he scratched with gentle fingers.

 

"Yeah," Harry hummed. "Single at the moment, but definitely not straight."

 

Louis swallowed hard and let out a breath.

 

"Right, okay, well maybe we'll find you a nice young man to debauch down here instead young Harold," Louis suggested smoothly with a twinkle.

 

Harry's eyes shone back as if to say _I'd quite like to debauch **you**_ , but Louis ignored it.

 

"How old are you?" Harry asked as Louis leaned away from the fencing to head down the narrow tunnel.

 

"What?" Louis called back, snorting.

 

"You keep calling me young but you don't look much older than me..." Harry pointed out.

 

"Twenty-four," Louis sighed. "Soon be thirty..."

 

It was Harry's turn to snort.

 

"Shut up, you're young too!"

 

Louis shrugged. "Not compared to your youthful self," he mused.

 

"I'm nineteen," Harry argued softly, his words emphatic as he began to struggle for breath.

 

Louis brought them into the round hideaway of the inner cave, pressing a new canister into Harry's hand.

 

"You should really consider not coming down here, it's bad for your health," he observed.

 

"Bad time of year," Harry offered through deep breaths of his new puffer.

 

"Hm," Louis nodded, confused. "But still..."

 

Harry's face creased then and Louis sensed he was about to share what was bothering him.

 

"There's a reason I came." He said.

 

Louis smiled softly, putting his hands behind him into the small of his back as he bumped against the side of the cave.

 

"Oh?"

 

"There's a reason I made you take me on the tour despite it being your lunch break and how you never get to eat..."

 

Louis rolled his eyes with a huff.

 

"Not true. I had sandwiches _and_ a packet of salt'n'vinegar _and_ half a Twix," he teased.

 

Harry smiled small.

 

"So what's on your mind, young curly one?" Louis prompted.

 

Harry chewed at his lower lip.

 

"Work," he admitted lowly.

 

"Hm," Louis hummed, eventually leading Harry through the tunnels to a resting place, sitting him down and settling beside him.

 

"So what's happening at work?" Louis asked, slipping his coat off and unfolding his scarf. He slipped the beanie off and ran his fingers through his hair.

 

Harry turned to watch him, eyes fixing on his lips. Louis licked his lips, finding Harry's gaze lifting to his eyes. He couldn't help but stare at the younger man, at the way his lashes curled and his lips pouted, bowed at the top.

 

"It's not going well," Harry admitted.

 

"Why?" Louis wondered, pressing a palm to Harry's shoulder.

 

He didn't know the guy very well but he'd show basic sympathy to anyone who looked this close to tears.

 

"I'm an intern at the Guardian Newspaper," Harry shared. "Turns out I'm not very good at it..."

 

"You're a reporter?" Louis checked.

 

Harry shrugged a bit.

 

"Copy-writer, technically."

 

"Wow, big-guns, huh," Louis whistled.

 

"That's how it should be," Harry agreed. "But-yeah. I'm kind of fucking it up..."

 

"What's the problem?" Louis wondered, because he didn't know anything about writing, really.

 

"I'm not meeting the mark," Harry admitted softly. "They don't like my style of writing...they don't like my ideas and every day this guy-"

 

Harry swallowed hard, suddenly biting off his words, embedding his teeth into his tongue.

 

Louis waited, flicking his eyes over Harry's hunched form, the taller guy's elbows resting on his knees now.

 

"Just because the Guardian don't like your style doesn't mean no-one else will," Louis bolstered. "Why don't you try submitting for the Independent or even The Metro?"

 

Harry sighed.

 

"My mum got me this internship, I can't just walk out..."

 

"You can," Louis considered. "Same way that I could walk out of here if some prick kept criticising me," he added.

 

Harry flicked him a tight-lipped look, standing awkwardly.

 

"We should probably head back, I'm going to make you late..."

 

Louis looked up for a long moment, studying Harry's profile.

 

"Alright, Harold, as you wish," he nodded and showed Harry the way back.

 

//

 

"So what's he like?"

 

"Did you snog him in the cave?"

 

"What about the engine room?"

 

Louis rolled his eyes with a huff.

 

"Would you two give it a rest?" He asked of his friends.

 

Zayn poked him in the belly.

 

"He's got your t-shirt, he likes you!"

 

"Funnily enough I don't go around copping off with boys I've just met," Louis defended.

 

"If he comes tomorrow, it's a sign," Niall carried on regardless.

 

"I sold him another t-shirt today," Zayn added with a wink.

 

"Which one?" Louis wondered curiously.

 

"It's a surprise," Zayn giggled and Louis whacked him fondly.

 

"You're such a shit bag..." Louis accused.

 

"Wouldn't want to ruin it," he smirked.

 

Louis flapped his hand at them as he walked away for his next group, ignoring the cat-calls and hollers of his friends.

 

//

 

Louis didn't expect to see Harry again.

 

After their chat the previous day, he'd assumed he'd pushed things too far and that Harry wouldn't be back.

 

Turned out Louis was wrong.

 

Because right there at the back of the waiting group was a tall form, hunched into a duffle coat and scarf, rich shiny dark curls swept to one side of his head.

 

Harry tucked a small smile into his mouth as Louis walked over with his clipboard. His dimples pooled in his cheeks as they flushed happily at seeing Louis smile back after meeting his gaze.

 

"Again, Curly?" Louis spoke over the group of six.

 

Harry nodded only, lifting a white card box. It was a cake box, there was no mistaking that.

 

Louis pursed his lips.

 

"Well I suppose I can make an exception just this once..."

 

Harry beamed and a little blonde girl at the front turned to look to where Louis was looking.

 

"Louis, Louis!" She stepped forward and tugged the hem of his wind-breaker.

 

"Yes, Samantha?" Louis replied patiently, lifting his brows.

 

Harry did not feel a quiver of jealousy at Louis having another _regular_. He absolutely did not.

 

"Can you hold my hand again?" She asked sweetly, leaning into his legs.

 

Harry didn't realise hand-holding was a requestable thing here. If he'd known, he'd have been first in _that_ queue. He sighed out slowly and chewed on his lower lip.

 

"Sure thing," Louis agreed easily, leading the group out into the frosty afternoon, starting his story-telling with a husk in his voice from the cold air.

 

"The men who built this bridge in the fifth century took great risks to raise the once-wooden supports which have now been upgraded to steel and iron...in fact the bridge was only opened as recently as 1974 to cars," he explained, changing up his narrative to keep things fresh.

 

Harry tucked his hands into his duffle coat pockets and ducked his head.

 

Louis hadn't missed the white shirt and green tie that Harry had on with his work slacks and brogues. He hadn't missed the way Harry narrowed his eyes slightly against the wind that fluttered his curly lashes. Louis hadn't missed how Harry's nose was pink again, like his cheeks, the way his gloved hands rubbed together as Louis talked. He hadn't missed Harry's lips, soft and pink, cold plumes of air tumbling out of his mouth.

 

"My good friend Harold here will tell you all about the history of the river," Louis said, carving through the crowd to grab Harry's coat lapel gently to tug him closer. Harry tripped over his own feet and fell towards Louis, righting himself with a confused look and lick of his lips.

 

"What?" He asked softly.

 

Samantha glared at Harry and thumped him in the thigh.

 

"Ow!" Harry stood back quickly, treading on someone else's foot. "Fuck, sorry...I'm so sorry are you-"

 

"He said _fuck_! Daddy, that man said the 'f' word!" Samantha wailed and Louis spluttered out some laughter before digressing into full giggles.

 

"Samantha, we do not hit people!" Her father chided sternly, apologising to Harry who was blushing hard still.

 

" _He tried to steal my Louis_ ," Samantha whispered very quietly and Louis met Harry's gaze and let his lips fall open.

 

"Er...well, who knew I was such a popular guy huh?" Louis quickly took control, clapping his gloved hands together. "How about I stick to the story-telling and Harold here can stick to modelling the official merchandise," he added with an amused smirk.

 

Harry ran a hand over the cloth of his green tour-tee, smiling grimly. He bowed slightly and shuffled to the back once more.

 

Once Louis had told the story about the river, they all moved along.

 

//

 

Samantha was slipping around the bell-cave while Louis rounded up the last of the group in the engine room, deliberately dropping back to check on Harry.

 

"How's the asthma today?" Louis asked.

 

Harry peeked at him.

 

"I'm fine," he said.

 

Louis noted the way he dipped his chin a bit, cheeks burning.

 

"Look I'm sorry I called you in earlier," Louis relented softly. "It was meant to be funny..."

 

Harry managed a lip-twist.

 

"You should probably get back to Samantha before she punches me in the balls..." He suggested.

 

Louis smirked.

 

"Can I rub them better if she does?" He wondered quietly, waiting for Harry's gaze to connect with his.

 

Harry's breathing had suddenly become weak.

 

Louis winked and walked away as Samantha whined his name from the echoes of the tunnel.

 

//

 

"Hey, cool t-shirt, buddy."

 

Harry turned slowly sideways and met the gaze of a shorter guy, about his age but possibly younger.

 

"I'm Greg," he added.

 

"Harry," he introduced reluctantly.

 

"You're um...tall?" Greg said and Harry frowned thoughtfully.

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I am..."

 

"So...uh, what are you doing after this?" The other guy wondered.

 

Harry had gotten distracted by the way Louis' eyelashes hit his cheeks when he blinked.

 

"Hm?"

 

"Like after...do you need a tour guide or something?"

 

Harry opened his mouth but a high, sharp voice cut across him before he could speak.

 

"I'm sorry, are we interrupting something?" Louis enquired.

 

Harry shot him a wide-eyed look.

 

Louis arched his brow at Greg.

 

"Only some of the group couldn't hear my narrative over your sudden desire to offer alternative tours..." Louis added.

 

Greg choked a bit and grinned under a curved hand.

 

"Jeez, chill buddy," he muttered, which only Harry caught.

 

"If you'd like to let us finish the tour in an orderly manner, we'll head upstairs to the gift store now," Louis smoothed, letting Samantha drag him into the toy corner to pick out a plush.

 

"I guess you're here for the sassy one," Greg said at Harry's side.

 

"I think maybe I am," Harry nodded as Greg faded away and it wasn't until Louis turned from the toy pit to look at him that he realised he was still there and already late back from lunch.

 

"Come on young Harold, can't stand there all day," Louis chided. "Unless this is a rebellion in which case the next tour starts in ten minutes..."

 

Harry bit into his lower lip.

 

"Do I get to ask for hand-holding?" He wondered.

 

Louis pursed his lips, his cheeks hollowing into a smile.

 

"Sorry, love, that's only for children under ten..."

 

Harry sighed.

 

"Then I guess I'm not rebelling just yet," he decided, turning to go back to his job.

 

"Hey, you didn't buy anything," Louis called, amused.

 

Harry's eyes twinkled as he turned back and he was gone in a sweep of his coat.

 

Louis frowned, heading to the counter.

 

"He's weird," he told Zayn.

 

Zayn pushed the cardboard box forwards.

 

"But he left you cream doughnuts, the ones with jam too..."

 

Louis flicked his eyes to his friend.

 

"Of course he did..."

 

"He also bought this and put it by for you..." Zayn pushed a hoodie over the counter, a dark blue one with the 'Belly Bridge Tour' logo on the front.

 

Louis grasped it with a gentle hand, thumbing the material.

 

"Think he's got a soft spot for you, Tommo..." Zayn added.

 

Louis rolled his eyes and walked away with his gifts.

 

//

 

Harry hid at the back of the group the next day, letting the standing tourists cover him as he ducked his head and tried to glance through the gaps between their bodies to grab a glimpse of his crush.

 

"Alright ladies and gents..." Louis' lovely loud voice sounded out, accompanied by that adorable way he bobbed on his feet.

 

Harry tensed a bit as Louis checked his board, biting into his pink lower lip as his eyes flicked over the page.

 

"Right...okay..." Louis hummed and his lips pressed together, releasing a small sigh as his brows furrowed. "Guess it's just us, then," he said and nobody else would have got the reference but Harry wondered if Louis was actually disappointed his name wasn't on the list.

 

He'd had to promise Niall two beers and a plate of cheesy chips for that particular favour but Harry had grown quite fond of the blonde guy so he didn't mind too much.

 

He stooped as he stood, green tee pulled over his office shirt and a flapped hat covering his curls. He noticed that Louis was wearing the hoodie he'd purchased for him the day before with no windbreaker over it.

 

The smaller man shivered a bit as the wind blew across the bridge and flattened his hair on one side of his head.

 

Louis began his spiel about the bridge and the materials used to make it, a speech Harry had heard three times now but it didn't get any less interesting. Just the way Louis' voice rolled over the words, a bit high and breathy, a bit rough. He kind of wanted to unzip his coat and wrap Louis into it.

 

He let his gloved fingers fiddle with the zip to get it open ready just in case the other man might be partial to a bit of cuddling once he was done with the tour.

 

Of course, Harry didn't expect the damn zip to get caught in the wool of his gloves, right on the fingertip and it didn't matter which way he tugged, the bloody thing wouldn't move.

 

" _For god's sake_ ," he finally breathed, earning more than a few curious glances.

 

"Monsier?" A French tourist frowned concernedly.

 

"Je vais bien," Harry mumbled in reply. _*I'm fine_

 

"Êtes-vous sûr ?" _*Are you sure?_

 

"Oui, Je suis absolument complètement sûr..." _*Yes, I'm completely sure._

 

"Il semble bloqué," the tourist ventured. _*It seems blocked_

 

Harry glared at him, curly lashes narrowing together.

 

"Je vois qu'il est coincé merci beaucoup!" He growled. _*I see it is stuck, thank you very much!_

 

The crowd parted to reveal a small brunette with pursed lips and an arched brow.

 

"Since when did you speak fluent French, Curly?" Louis wondered.

 

Harry swallowed, a blush forming on his wind-burned cheeks.

 

"Since now," he offered moodily.

 

Louis turned to the other tourist.

 

"Je suis très désolé mon ami." Louis apologised. _*I am very sorry my friend_

 

The other man nodded his agreement. Louis cleared his throat.

 

"Now, shall we move further down the bridge?" He suggested with a wan smile, making sure he tucked himself slightly behind Harry as he followed the crowd up to the entrance door.

 

"Harold, what's going on?" He asked gently.

 

Harry shrugged, ducking into his ear-flaps a bit. Louis flicked one teasingly.

 

"You look very cute in this by the way..."

 

Harry managed a small smile.

 

"Vous croyez?" _*You think?_

 

Louis nodded.

 

"Oui."

 

Harry elbowed him and he chuckled, heading back to the front whilst the French tourist helped Harry pull his glove free from his zipper, finally giving him the chance to pull it all the way down.

 

They headed down to the engine room and Harry felt his phone vibrate, checking he wasn't getting called back to work for an emergency.

 

 ** _Can't wait to feel your peachy ass again_**.

 

He choked, gagging at the words written there by Jonathan, the Editor of the paper who had managed to get his number from his personal file somehow. Harry had complained about it to HR but he'd been told what a great opportunity it was to work there and reminded not to mess it up.

 

Harry had left that meeting with gritted teeth and furrowed brows and every day since he'd felt sick whenever Jonathan passed his desk or called him into a meeting.

 

Or _didn't_ pass him as the case may be. But instead insisted on giving him a personal 'hello'.

 

"Oh, your boyfriend texting you?" Louis asked over his shoulder and Harry snapped his phone away from prying eyes.

 

He shook his head, swallowing heavily.

 

"Hey..." Louis rubbed a gentle hand onto his arm as he came beside him. "Who sent you that?"

 

"No-one," he whispered. "It doesn't matter..."

 

The truth was, Harry had rushed out of the office for lunch so fast today he'd almost fallen over his own feet- not an unusual occurrence but for all the wrong reasons. His breathing had gotten tight and fast and he'd had to use ten minutes of his break to calm himself down before heading to the bridge.

 

Luckily Louis was running a bit late- probably scoffing the fresh bacon sandwiches Harry had ordered in for them all.

 

Louis stared at him while he looked everywhere but at the smaller man, biting his lip.

 

"Right. Fine." Louis sighed, heading to the engine room to talk his group through the logistics of the under-ground mechanism, the bell-cave coming up soon after.

 

Harry noticed the voices fading away, knew he was being left behind and Louis never let him get left behind before, he always dropped back and made sure-

 

"I hope you realise this is very special treatment, Harold," Louis leaned on the wall at the entrance to the engine room, arms folded across his chest and ankles crossed.

 

Harry gulped.

 

"Asked Niall nicely if he'd mind taking the crew up since I have one rebel tourist who refuses to listen to my masterpiece speech..."

 

"You didn't have to do that," Harry whispered, hands shaking as he cupped his knees.

 

Louis pushed off the wall and came over, sliding down beside him.

 

"I guess this isn't an asthma thing?" Louis ventured.

 

Harry grimaced but shook his head. He felt his hat slip off, fingers combing through his curls and when he shifted his eyes to his right, he could see his fleece headwear in Louis' lap.

 

"Talk to me," Louis invited.

 

Harry chucked out a breath.

 

"God this is so stupid..."

 

Louis leaned back on the step, his hand sliding down Harry's coated back.

 

"I dunno, I've heard some pretty stupid things in my time, you'll do well if you expect to beat them..."

 

Harry huffed out, swallowing again as tears pushed onto his lower lashes which he dashed away with the back of his hand.

 

"The job my mum got me..." He rolled his eyes, letting his hot tears track down his cheeks. His throat ached with it, bobbing as he swallowed. "I can't do it, I can't write what they want me to write and-"

 

Louis sat back up, fingertips raining through the back of Harry's hair by his nape. Harry shivered and gave Louis a long, soulful look.

 

Louis seemed to snap out of it, shaking his head a bit.

 

"Shit, sorry, Harold...sorry," he scooted away a bit, pressing his palms together between his thighs.

 

Harry blinked.

 

"So, uh...you were saying?" Louis prompted. "And..?"

 

"And the guy that sent that disgusting text..."

 

Louis turned to him a bit again, lips pressing together as his brows drew close.

 

Harry closed his eyes and squeezed them shut, his breathing stuttering and his hands shaking harder.

 

"He thinks it's okay to touch me." He said and the words were out, fluttering around like black bats, like the way his heart tripped over in his chest.

 

He was sobbing a bit harder now, curled down on himself and Louis couldn't have not hugged him if he'd tried. He leaned over him, arm across those broad shoulders, hands cupping his biceps both sides.

 

"For fuck's sake, Harry, why didn't you say something," Louis huffed. "I'd have gone down there that first day and smacked the bloody living shit out of him..."

 

Harry didn't break for air or laughter. Louis bent his arm a bit, elbow pressed between Harry's shoulder blades as he used his bent fingers to gently pinch and tug Harry's hair through bent fingers pressed together, resorting to back-fingered strokes once Harry settled a bit.

 

"I don't want to go back," Harry finally mumbled, voice thick and sore with tears.

 

Louis narrowed his eyes.

 

"You can't," he said flatly. "Harry, promise me you won't..."

 

Harry arched his back, forcing Louis' arm away. When he looked at him, his eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, like his sniffly nose.

 

"My mum..." Harry said only, swallowing deeply with a twist of his lips that turned downwards.

 

Louis opened his mouth to say something about that but Harry's large, warm hand gently curved over his knee.

 

"Thank you, Louis."

 

Louis hesitated but took a breath and rolled his eyes, waving a bemused hand.

 

"Nothing but trouble you are, Curly..."

 

"Sorry I messed up the tour," Harry added guiltily.

 

"You didn't," Louis assured. "Anyway...you're coming tomorrow, right?"

 

Harry nodded, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve with another sniff.

 

"Wouldn't miss it."

 

"Good, I've still yet to give you the full-bodied Scottish accented version," Louis teased, tugging a reluctant smile from Harry lips.

 

"Can't wait..."

 

Louis gave him a quick squeeze before getting up.

 

//

 

Harry didn't come to the lunchtime tour.

 

Louis' last tour was at five and he made Niall do his last slot, jogging out in his khaki jacket, a hand pushing his fringe back from his eyes.

 

The offices of the Guardian newspaper were across town and he rode the tubes expertly, his wiry frame working through the crowds quickly.

 

He slipped past the reception desk and ducked into a lift, travelling up to the third floor where the newspaper worked from, darting his eyes around as he strolled around with his signature swagger, knowing any minute he was going to get told to-

 

"Can I help you?"

 

A polite, crisp voice asked from behind him and he turned, seeing a young woman with blonde hair carrying an arm full of folders.

 

"I...uh...I'm looking for your intern?" Louis licked his lips nervously. "Harry Styles? I've uh...got a story for him..."

 

The girl's cool grey gaze flicked down him and then back up, lips pressing together as a brow rose into a neat arch. He smiled as innocently as he cold manage, showing some teeth in a slightly forced grin.

 

"He could use a good story," she murmured under her breath, turning and gesturing him to follow.

 

He scattered after her, stumbling up to a small corner desk where Harry was typing studiously into his keyboard. He looked up as the two approached and his lips fell open.

 

"L-Louis!" He stood up, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

 

Louis flicked his eyes over him, from his pale blue shirt and sleeveless cardigan in a deeper blue, to his grey well-fitted slacks and finally his shiny brogues. He swallowed as his gaze caught on Harry's thighs on the way back up.

 

"Thought you were coming to my show," Louis flicked his head to the side, a hand coming out of his pocket to pull his fringe through his finger and thumb pressed together.

 

Harry gulped, hands tremoring as he pressed his fingertips into the desktop.

 

"I-"

 

"Styles!" A voice barked and Louis turned to see a medium height, well-dressed man striding across the office floor to stop at the desk. "No visitors, remember?"

 

Louis turned his head to the side to look up and down the man, his lip curling in contempt. He knew exactly who this man was without either Harry or the guy himself needing to introduce him.

 

"Jonathan, sorry, I-" Harry was cut off with the sudden raise of his boss' palm.

 

"Just get him out," Jonathan stipulated.

 

Jonathan had neat hair and strangely warm whiskey coloured eyes and Louis might wonder if Harry was attracted to him if he didn't know the truth. And the truth was that Harry's boss was touching him inappropriately and so it didn't matter how neat his hair was or how-good looking he was. He was hurting Harry and Louis was always a sucker for the under-dogs.

 

Louis turned, brows arcing high as a fake smile stretched across his lips.

 

"Hello, hello," he greeted smartly.

 

The man finally deigned to look at him, an impatient huff pushing through his lips.

 

"Can I help you?"

 

Louis rocked back on his heels, the hands curled in his pockets pushing forwards a bit.

 

"No, but Harry can...since I have a story for him that will save your failing newspaper..."

 

The man looked mildly amused.

 

"Oh really...and what kind of story does a street rat like you have?" He wondered.

 

Louis chucked out his own unamused laugh, licking his lips hard.

 

"Oh I dunno...how about the Print Editor of a high-profile British Newspaper getting his hands on his staff sound you?" Louis posed.

 

Jonathan's eyes darkened and his teeth clenched, firstly glaring at Harry and then back at Louis with a more controlled expression.

 

"Really? And do you have evidence of this accusation?" Jonathan asked, pursing his lips smugly.

 

Louis grinned back lop-sidedly.

 

"You know...it's funny what us _street-rats_ can do, mate," Louis considered. "Like being able to access Security camera footage and oh, I don't know," he shrugged. "Previous employees who have rock-solid statements to back them up..."

 

Jonathan looked at him through narrowed eyes for a long, charged moment, slow but heavy breaths passing in and out of his lungs, causing his chest to swell then deflate.

 

Harry was caught in mid-motion, wanting to move around the table to grab Louis by the wrist and pull him as far away from the place as he could get him but also wanting to ask him what the _fuck_ he thought he was doing. He stood motionless, breath caught in his lungs as he waited for Jonathan to show his hand.

 

Jonathan's face smoothed into a mask of schooled professionalism.

 

"I believe I owe The Independent a favour," he graced. "I'll give you the Editor's number and we'll call it a day here shall we?" He suggested.

 

Jonathan looked at Harry who ducked his head a bit, but then nodded gently.

 

"I'll let your mother know of the change in employment," Jonathan murmured, pushing his hand towards Louis to shake, to seal the agreement.

 

Louis grasped with his left hand and gave him a dark look, reaching back with his right before landing his knuckles squarely on Jonathan's cheek.

 

Jonathan cried out and stumbled back, clutching his face while workers gasped and chattered at the commotion occurring. Louis smirked, pursing his lips.

 

"Scum of the earth, you are," he hummed, striding over to Harry's side of the desk and gently clutching his hand. "Come on, Curly, eh? Think you're done for the day..."

 

Louis turned to tug Harry toward the exit but the taller man paused a bit, turning back.

 

"Done for good," he said low and shaky, finally following Louis quickly from the building before anyone caught them up.

 

//

 

"So there's something I've been wanting to know..."

 

Louis picked delicate white petals off a yellow daisy-head whilst Harry studiously made a flower-crown, splitting the stalks with his thumbnail and threading them together.

 

"Hm?" He hummed, squinting into the low afternoon sun, the leaves in the tree above them rustling like shakers, the dappled light making Harry's face glow and his brown curls turn honey-coloured.

 

Louis bent his knee, draped his arm over it while Harry lay on his belly.

 

"When can I take you out?" Louis asked

 

Harry's hands fiddled on the chain, the flowers falling from his fingertips and he lifted his curl-haloed head slowly, his puffy lips pursing with a confused furrow in his brows.

 

"Wh-what?"

 

Louis scoffed and bit his lip to temper his wide smile, letting it break free as his eyes crinkled shut in glee.

 

"Oh come on, Harold, you can't tell me you came to my boring old tour four times for the fun of it, let alone buying half the merch shop. Was thinking maybe...you know," Louis winked. "I was thinking _maybe_ you liked little street-rat Louis or something..."

 

Louis arched  a brow with a glance at Harry, his lip slipping under his teeth again.

 

"Maybe?" Louis added softly, a little more uncertainly.

 

Harry stared at him, that tiny, tiny dent above his brow still.

 

"I-"

 

Louis cleared his throat, rescuing the daisy chain.

 

"Or maybe not!" He forced out, high and breathy. "That's okay too, quite like the Harold friendship thing too, you know...tour buddies and that..."

 

Harry sat up slowly, getting onto his knees and taking the broken chain from Louis to fix it. Louis looked up at him with curious blue eyes. Harry laid the chain delicately in Louis' hair and let out a shaky breath, hands awkwardly falling to his thighs until one bravely reached up again, dusting back Louis' fringe.

 

"I'd like that," He said low and hesitant. "Not the friends thing though," he frowned. "The other thing...the date thing..."

 

Louis blinked, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

 

"Yeah?" He checked Harry wasn't double-bluffing him.

 

Harry nodded with a soft, 'Yeah' and Louis couldn't help his relieved smile, the gush of his held breath outwards.

 

"Any more dickhead bosses I need to know about?" Louis wondered lightly, star-fishing his hand to stretch his aching muscles.

 

Harry smiled secretly in the corner of his mouth, capturing Louis' hand to kiss his bruised skin. When Louis looked up at him in surprise, Harry leaned forward to kiss his lips, almost chaste, his lips a bit dry and cold- from how nervous he was and the cold winter air.

 

"Thank you, Louis," he said, rocking back against his ankles.

 

Louis smiled.

 

"Any day, alright?" He promised. "I love taking out ass-holes..."

 

Harry grinned with a blush, shyly lowering his gaze only to dart it back up.

 

"You were pretty awesome in there..."

 

"Just _pretty_ awesome?" Louis complained. "I'll have you know Harold, I was _mega_ -awesome..."

 

Harry chuckled and nodded happily.

 

"Yeah...yeah, you were. You-" He swallowed. "You _are_ ," he carried on more quietly, softer like a whisper. "You are awesome Louis."

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

"Now, now, less of the ego-boost, I'm already cocky enough. Tell me, how do I suit daisies in my hair?" He arched a brow with a purse of his lips.

 

Harry smiled, his dimples grooving deeply into his cheeks.

 

"You suit them a lot."

 

Louis rolled his eyes again and swatted Harry's thigh.

 

"So, back to my original question," Louis smirked. "When can I take you out?"

 

Harry licked his lips, letting his tongue roll over the lower one slowly as he thought about his answer.

 

"Is tomorrow too soon?"

 

Louis laughed a loud 'ha!' that startled Harry a bit.

 

"Tomorrow it is then, Curly. Want the full Tomlinson Tour of London?" He asked.

 

Harry shrugged shyly.

 

"If you like..."

 

Louis hummed a bit, a fond smile crinkling his eyes.

 

"Alright, let's see what takes us when we meet up then..."

 

"Okay," Harry agreed shyly meeting Louis' gaze.

 

"Okay," Louis nodded his agreement.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Ang

PART 2

 

Harry is bundled up quite handsomely in his duffle coat, his red tour scarf, skinny jeans and a pair of Ugg-like soft beige boots with laces on them, studier than the fashion item but a touch girly none the less.

 

He's had to pull his flapped fleece hat over his curls, rubbing his mittened hands together to keep them warm.

 

If his eyes are sparkling, it's _not_ because he's meeting Louis.

 

 _Absolutely not_.

 

//

 

Harry's nose was pink already, like his flushed cheeks and Louis kind of wanted to burrow into his jacket and get close to his warmth.

 

He swallowed, smiled a bit painfully to himself at how quickly this boy had wormed his way into his heart.

 

He shook his head with a resigned sigh, hands jammed in skinny-jeaned pockets as he approached on light feet, bouncing on the toes of his Vans.

 

"Not sure this part of town is safe to hang around if I'm honest, mate," Louis said as he approached.

 

Harry's smile was soft and dimple-filled.

 

"Oh?"

 

"Yeah," Louis stretched his lips thin with a wince. "Gotta be careful, Curly..."

 

"Like some older guy might try and chat me up?" Harry posed with a mischievous smirk, eyes sparkling again.

 

Louis tried not to smile and failed, glancing at the ground. He'd quiffed his hair for their date, tucked a smart black scarf into his sheep-skin lined denim jacket.

 

"Apparently I'm not old," he arched a brow with a rueful smirk.

 

Harry reached forward, as though to take Louis' hand, but they were both still in his pockets. He looked up, felt Harry's fingers tug on his sleeve instead.

 

"Where you taking me, older bad-guy type?" He teased.

 

Louis' face lit up then, bright and full of showy grin.

 

"Aha! The Best Secrets of London Tour is now in commencement," Louis narrated, walking them down the river from Monument where they'd met.

 

Harry turned to walk beside him, looking up at the sky. It was thick with cloud and the air was bitingly cold. He shivered into his coat. The ground was layered with thick frost and leftover snow from two days ago when a heavy flurry had dumped itself all across the City.

 

Louis hummed a bit as he looked around, face bright with a smile.

 

"So how much of London have you seen?" Louis wondered, looking to Harry.

 

Harry shrugged his shoulders up a notch, burying his curls into his collar.

 

"Nothing, really. I came from Holmes Chapel for the job and-"

 

"Speaking of which," Louis interrupted him. "And by the way, I haven't missed how posh you are Harold, but," he cleared his throat. "How is the job thing with your mum?"

 

Harry smiled small. He had rung his mum last night to tell her the news and actually, she had been okay with it. She was determined for Harry to succeed in his chosen vocation and she didn't mind how he did it, just that he gave it his very best shot.

 

He sometimes felt heavy with the expectation of success and any minor failures felt like so much more under that kind of pressure.

 

"She's actually fine with it," he shared.

 

Louis scoffed.

 

"I should think so! Once you told her about that creep of a boss I expect she welcomed the news with trumpets..." He mused.

 

Harry winced a bit.

 

"I-um...I like, didn't really tell her," he murmured. "You know. About Jonathan."

 

"Dick-face you mean?" Louis pitched. "And why not?" He asked more gently with a concerned frown.

 

"God...um-" Harry choked a bit, looking out to the river where the lights of the buildings were reflected perfectly. Even in the dark he could make out the white dusting along the aged shaped of Parliament, the majesty and history of those buildings weighing heavily on his chest.

 

"Hey," Louis slipped a hand out his pocket to circle Harry's wrist. "It's okay you don't have to tell me..."

 

Harry tucked his shoulder up, pressing his cheek into it, peeking at Louis beside him. He noticed that Louis had on his fingerless gloves and thought absently that his fingertips must be cold.

 

"Um...my mum doesn't know," he admitted in a low, guilty voice which began to get shaky. "About me and-liking guys," he sighed. "She doesn't know I'm-"

 

"Not straight?" Louis inserted lightly, stealing Harry's phrase from when they met.

 

Harry smirked.

 

"Exactly. She...uh...she doesn't know. Yet," he added pointedly.

 

"That sounds promising," Louis ventured, glancing at the cutely-blushing Harry.

 

Harry twisted his wrist around so that Louis let go, but in the same movement, he captured Louis' hand in his own, bigger, warmer one.

 

"Hadn't met someone, you know," he said softly. "That made it like...worth telling her," he added.

 

Louis swallowed, looking up at Harry with big eyes and fear pulsing in his heart. He reached around with his free hand, jostling his hat.

 

"Think you have now huh? Think I'm a good one to take home to Mummy?" He teased.

 

Harry grinned back.

 

"She uh...she might not-" He paused, a frown crossing his face. "I'm not sure she'll be very happy with me when I tell her," he finally found the words.

 

Louis pressed his lips together and blinked, hiding his sympathy. His own mother had worked him out aged twelve and had loved him harder for all the difficulty he had to face growing up gay.

 

"Hm," Louis breathed out through his nose with the small, dissatisfied sound. "If she wasn't woman she could join the realms with your old boss," Louis decided.

 

Harry tugged on his hand.

 

"Look!" He pointed upward, face brightening at the sight of Big Ben blanketed with snow, tall and cold-looking.

 

Louis shivered.

 

"Not far now, Harold," Louis assured.

 

Harry let go of his hand and slipped an arm around his waist.

 

"C'mere, little Louis," he smirked.

 

Louis immediately snapped his jaw to the right.

 

"Who're you calling little?" He demanded starkly, his body playing traitor by tucking under Harry's arm a bit more.

 

"You," Harry hummed happily.

 

"Hm," Louis snorted again. "Is it too late to get a friend to call me and evacuate me?"

 

Harry opened his mouth at the outrageous suggestion, letting his arm slip away from Louis' back.

 

"You were never this resistant before," he observed astutely.

 

Louis arched a brow. That could very well be true. In fact his legs were agreeing with the statement, aiming him back towards Harry's orbit.

 

He let Harry's arm settle back around him and tucked his hands into his pockets a touch harder.

 

//

 

Harry's lashes were fluttering, blinking away the fine, feather-like snow flurry that was cascading emptily down, barely a snow-fall, more like the flakes falling from the dusted trees.

 

Trees that were leaf-less, but filled with blue tree-lights, wrapped beautifully and leading a corridor to the biggest Ferris-Wheel in all of England.

 

His green eyes looked black from the night sky, his pale skin was aglow with the blue of the electric orbs around them. Louis bit his bottom lip.

 

"Is this okay? You haven't been on it before have you?"

 

Harry shook his head, reaching to his left without turning his head, patting his hand around Louis' hip until his fingers hooked into his coat pocket, tugging him closer swiftly where Louis softly bumped his side.

 

"Looks like it's still running," Louis murmured. "Guess we better get in there before-"

 

Harry's lips landed on his, cold and a bit wet with melted snow. They gently sucked on his lower lip, then his upper one, brushing to the side and away. It was Louis' turn to be blinking up at the man holding him captive.

 

"This is incredible, Louis, thank you," Harry expressed.

 

Louis looked at him bemusedly.

 

"Are you kidding me? There's guys in London who would have taken you to casinos and Cabaret on a first date and I bring you to snowy London Eye..."

 

Harry headed down the path, grasping Louis' hand to tug him along, smiling back at him.

 

"Don't want Cabaret," Harry mumbled as Louis caught up and took over the leading duties once more, paying for them to share a car.

 

The City looked like something out of The Snowman at night covered in white. Harry stood rigidly by the window, eyes wide and hands clasped on the railing, eyes flicking all over.

 

Louis took a champagne and brought one for Harry, pressing into his back as he reached around to pass him the glass.

 

"To the Best Secret Tour of London," Louis toasted.

 

"To first dates," Harry replied, clinking their glasses.

 

They sipped their wine, watching the City roll by.

 

//

 

"Not sure you can top that really," Harry lips twitched into a bashful smile as his dimples popped.

 

Louis hummed.

 

"I might not be able to beat it, but that doesn't mean what I have left is any less impressive," he considered.

 

Harry arched a brow.

 

"Where are we going now?"

 

Louis pulled him away from the river towards  small basement-looking building, old and vintage-feeling, all brickwork and dark wooden tables and chairs.

 

It was a bare-brick interior, almost Celtic feel.

 

Harry felt instantly buzzed walking in behind Louis, slipping his hat off shyly.

 

"Reservation for Tomlinson," Louis told the clerk.

 

The smartly-dressed lady ticked off the name in the book and led them through to a table set into a slight cove.

 

"Thanks, Brittany," Louis nodded to the woman and took Harry's seat out, waiting for him to sit, only then swifting the chair inwards like a gentleman might.

 

"Something about the period atmosphere has made you gallant," Harry remarked.

 

Louis slipped into his own seat opposite Harry.

 

"Nothing wrong with trying to impress a guy is there?" He enquired lightly.

 

Harry blushed a bit and opened his menu a beat after Louis hid behind his.

 

"Why're you-" He cleared his throat, rolling his eyes. "Louis you don't need to like-"

 

Louis lowered the top of his menu, lips twitching.

 

"I can highly recommend the crab," he said.

 

Harry stared, blinked and then finally sighed in defeat, eyes dropping back to the menu he'd laid open flat on the table so he hunched over it.

 

"Cauliflower cheese sounds good," he replied.

 

Louis lifted his brows.

 

"You're not a meat man then?"

 

Harry chuckled with a little shrug. "Maybe. Sometimes."

 

Louis bit his lip against how beautiful he was.

 

"You know, I still have one more stop after this," he led softly. "Hope you're not too tired..."

 

"Louis..." Harry warned lowly, only for Louis to smile innocently.

 

He lifted his index finger and thumb an inch apart.

 

"Tiny little thing to finish off the tour," he promised. "Teeny-tiny, I promise..."

 

Harry blinked, a little bit in love already.

 

"Alright," he accepted, unwrapping his scarf now the chill had dissipated.

 

Louis was staring quite hard at his chest when the waiter arrived to take their orders, Harry having given his.

 

"Louis, what are you having?" Harry prompted.

 

"Green," Louis said, eyes still fixed at Harry's sternum.

 

"Green, sir?" The waiter checked.

 

Harry's giggle, honking and guffawed, brought Louis out of his daze. He looked to his left.

 

"Hm? What?" He asked the young man stood there.

 

"What would you like to order, sir?" The waiter repeated.

 

Louis flicked a look at Harry who raised a curious brow.

 

"Um...steak," Louis selected. "With greens," he added in what he felt was a triumphant save.

 

The fact Harry was wearing  a deep forest green cable-knit sweater had nothing to do with his obsession with the colour green. None at all.

 

"So," Louis breathed, lifting his gaze to Harry's face.

 

 _Green_ , _Green_ _Green_.

 

"So," Harry's eyes sparkled amusedly.

 

"That's a nice-" Louis flicked a finger at him from under the table where he'd pressed his hands between his thighs. "Jumper. Nice jumper you've got there, good, um...choice? Yeah...good choice," he nodded with a satisfied smile that he'd picked the right words and presented them in an understandable order.

 

Harry nodded with a slight downturn of his lips.

 

"Nice t-shirt," he returned about Louis' AC/DC tee. "Love that band..."

 

"Got a gig coming up soon at Brixton," Louis broached. "If you're still around town then, fancy going?"

 

Harry smiled.

 

"Yeah, sure...and um...pretty sure I'll be in town for a while," he added.

 

If Louis felt part of the reason for that was because of him, he put it down to his wild imagination.

 

They ate their mains with softer, teasing conversation. Louis picked on Harry's snow-hair, the curls mushed into fluffy softness. Harry asked Louis candidly about his tattoos, wanted to know his artist so he could get some of his own.

 

"So um," Louis swallowed heavily, leaning back and laying a hand against his over-full belly. His toffee-pudding had been particularly stodgy.

 

"Um?" Harry broached as the bill was laid by Louis' hand.

 

Louis checked it and slid his card in the tray to wait for the machine to be brought over.

 

"Like...your mum doesn't know about you, but have you-?" Louis lifted a brow delicately.

 

Harry was nineteen. Louis was eighteen when he'd lost his own virginity and it had been with a girl so he had no idea where Harry was regarding his sexuality and his experience. Louis wanted to take things suitably paced in that respect.

 

"Oh," Harry sat up, brows quirking as his lips o'd.

 

Louis rolled his eyes as the waiter interrupted to take his payment and they both rose, wrapping up before heading back out into the nippy night.

 

Harry slipped his hand into Louis' again and squeezed gently.

 

"I have, yeah," he nodded slowly, grazing his upper lip with his lower teeth as a flush settled on his cheeks.

 

Louis bit at his own lips and shook his head as a bitter feeling filled his chest twisting his heart. He should never have asked, it was rude and insensitive but he'd just wanted to know how slow to take things and now it was obvious he'd take them very slow because Harry was already hurt by his words, his question as to how experienced he was.

 

"Hey," Louis turned a bit, cupping Harry's jaw and swiping a thumb over his cheek.

 

Harry avoided his gaze, biting his trembling lower lip.

 

"Hey," Louis said again, more softly. He rolled onto his tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his lower lip. "Wanna see my last stop on the tour?" He asked; a playful brow arching.

 

Harry couldn't help his smile, his heart pounding heavy in his chest. He nodded excitedly and let Louis lead the way.

 

//

 

 

"Fuck, Louis, why did you bring me here?"

 

Harry startled at the feel of something cold and damp brushing his neck, grasping Louis' hand tightly in his.

 

"Ouch, Jesus, Harold, can you not break my hand at least?" Louis asked back.

 

"It's scary!" Harry complained, shuffling closer to him as dark shadows loomed either side, skeletons and ghosts lingering in hidden corners.

 

"Hah-Hah-Hah!" A loud, witchy cackle pre-empted the advance of a dark figure, pointed nose and crooked teeth.

 

Harry practically jumped into Louis' arms who sniggered and clasped his little arms around Harry's waist.

 

"There, there, Princess..."

 

"Shut up, I'm not a Princess," Harry complained, although his voice was wobbly and weak. "I'm just-"

 

"Wooo!" A dark-clad figure jumped out of nowhere and waggled fingers in Harry's face. He buried his cheek into Louis' neck and he curled right up on his chest.

 

"Fuck Louis!"

 

Louis bit his lip. Maybe the dungeons weren't such a good idea. He hugged Harry a bit with a hum.

 

"Do you want to go?" Louis asked seriously. "I know all the exit doors and there's one right behind that lair..."

 

Harry shivered in Louis' arms as a cobweb slithered over his elbow in the breeze that pushed down the tunnelled walls. He nodded into Louis' neck.

 

Louis led him outside into the cold night air, instantly giving him a full cuddle.

 

"Sorry, Harold," he said regretfully. "I honestly thought you'd like it, I didn't know-"

 

"I'm scared," the words were thick with emotion, Harry clutching at him tightly.

 

Louis rubbed his back with a gentle hand.

 

"I won't let any ghouls get you," he promised.

 

Harry managed a breathy chuckle. He pulled back and looked into Louis' face with hazy green eyes and pale skin.

 

"Louis?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"Can we go home now?"

 

Louis' stomach dropped and his heart skipped a beat, but not in a good way. Not in a good way at all.

 

"Oh-er, sure...of course. Yeah, um..." Louis dug his phone out of his pocket and called for a cab, walking Harry carefully to the pick up point on the main road where it was well-lit unlike the darkened street they'd slipped into.

 

Louis rubbed his back still, biting his lip.

 

"Which side of town do you live on?" He asked, wondering if they'd share.

 

"North," Harry replied.

 

Louis quirked his brows. _Of course_.

 

The taxi pulled up and Harry ducked in, scooting over to the far side. Louis bent over the cab, hand braced on the roof.

 

"I live West-side," he said. "I'll get the tube from here..."

 

Harry frowned a bit, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

 

"I thought-" He swallowed hard, glancing a hand through his hair.

 

Louis crouched a bit.

 

"What?"

 

Harry blinked, furrowing his brows deeply.

 

"I just assumed that you'd-"

 

"I'd?"

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"Come to mine, maybe? For a while...maybe-"

 

Louis sucked in a breath, surprised at the suggestion. Five minutes ago Harry had hated him for taking him to the dungeons. Now he wanted him to spend the night?

 

Harry peeked at him, looking away shyly, eyes in his lap and lashes dusting his cheeks.

 

"I guess that'd be okay..." Louis teased, curling into the seat beside Harry.

 

If Louis snuck his hand across the expanse of seat between them and Harry happened to take it, well then, nobody needed to know.

 

//

 

Harry's London apartment was very swanky.

 

Smooth olive and lemon created the base of the colour palette for decoration, warm creams and dark brown accents creating a traditional feel, but still light and airy somehow.

 

Louis had felt a bit like an imposter in his Vans and denim jacket when he'd followed Harry in last night but somehow now, blinking his sleep-heavy lids delicately open, he felt somewhat like he was _home_.

 

The warm hustle of a bigger body tucked into his front reminded him that he'd fallen asleep on the sofa with Harry after watching a late film together, neither of them prompting Louis to leave and so-

 

Harry snuffled a bit, his broken curls brushing Louis' chin as he shifted.

 

"Hey, beautiful," Louis whispered, one arm around Harry's waist, his other running up his back to gently claw into the back of his dark hair, raking through that mass, grasping weakly in the merest of tugs.

 

Louis smiled, kissing his temple.

 

"Smell so sweet," he added softly, biting his lip against his overly soppy words.

 

He had to stop showing his hand. Harry didn't need to know how far Louis was gone for him already. He maybe never needed to know that.

 

"Mm, Lou," Harry half-hummed, half moaned.

 

Louis stiffened a bit, their legs tangled together in a tight, sweet mix. He clenched his thighs, feeling Harry's tucked between them. He stroked his hand down the back of Harry's head, smiling as he felt Harry roll a bit in his arms, settling against him heavily when he realised he had nowhere to roll to.

 

"Hi," Harry drawled, his voice a deep vibration.

 

Louis felt the soft brush of his eye-lashes against his jaw as he opened his eyes, stretching out long-ways. When he settled again, he slipped his thigh back between Louis' and banded his arms around Louis' shoulders.

 

"Hey, Curly," Louis' sparkly eyes landed on hazy green ones.

 

Harry grinned, dimples lengthening in his cheeks.

 

"Work?" Harry checked.

 

Louis shook his head.

 

"Not on Sundays," he confirmed, brushing a thumb gently across Harry's spine as he tenderly scratched his scalp with his other hand.

 

"Hmm," Harry smiled, wriggling a bit, pushing their hips gently together. "This feels so good."

 

Louis pursed his lips with a bemused smile.

 

"Harold, you're going to try and tell me you've never been indulged?"

 

Harry beamed, hips arching as Louis' thumb trailed to the hem of his jumper, worming up under it to brush his jeans waistband, then above it where his warm, soft skin peeked out. He shuddered a bit, eyes landing directly on Louis' with dark pupils.

 

"I've never been indulged," Harry confirmed, pressing his chin forward slightly to press his lips against Louis', warm and a little bit cracked.

 

Louis breathed out and licked his tongue out before Harry completely pulled away. His tongue gently lathed over Harry's trembling lips, coaxing him to open them so he could slot their lips together as he angled his head to reach.

 

Harry made a little noise in the back of his throat and tilted his own head to match, sliding his lips over Louis' and seeing flashlights ping behind his eyes.

 

"Oh," Harry sucked in a breath, pulling back.

 

Louis bit into his lower lip with a furrowed brow.

 

"What?" He whispered.

 

Harry rocked his hips a bit, settling them against Louis' once more.

 

Louis quirked a brow at the heat emanating Harry's body, the intensity of that burning the top of his thigh. He curled his hands into the front of Harry's lush, thick jumper and tugged gently.

 

"Okay?" He asked.

 

Harry nodded, eyes dropping to Louis' lips, lashes fluttering against his pretty flushed cheeks. It was seamless to tuck his chin down and kiss Louis again, his little mouth opening easily to Harry's silent invitation.

 

Louis pressed his fingertips into Harry's scalp slightly, tightening his other arm around him and pressing his palm against Harry's naked back, underneath his top where he'd stealthily sneaked it.

 

Harry made another noise and ramped his hips a bit, squeezing his arms around Louis' shoulders as Louis wriggled to get a bit of friction, needing to get between Harry's thighs ideally or at least, get the younger man to open them so he could-

 

Louis slipped his hand from under Harry's jumper, using that hand to cup the back of his head, his now-free hand sliding down the front of his jumper, brushing the backs of his knuckles low where their bodies met tightly together.

 

"Hey," Louis licked the word into his mouth. "Can I...?"

 

He twisted his wrist, pushing his fingers downwards still between their bodies. Harry got the gist and angled back, thighs widening.

 

"Fuck," Louis whispered, feeling like he was accessing a magic cave with his own special brand of 'open sesame'.

 

Harry's dark jeans were tight with a growing bulge. Louis turned his hand again, brushing his knuckles against the fly of his incredibly tight jeans, his question still hanging between them.

 

_Can I?_

Harry swallowed heavily and pushed the tips of his short-nailed fingers up into the back of Louis' hair, leaning in for a kiss but keeping the space between their hips for Louis to touch.

 

"Yes," Harry granted finally, whispered against Louis' tongue. "Please," he added sweetly, pressing his hand over Louis' to rub his palm fully against his heat, his dick ridging beneath the denim.

 

He jerked his hips into that, hand sliding over Louis' side to gently grasp his butt-cheek. squeezing the flesh there as Louis' hand cupped him through his jeans.

 

He let out a surprised gasp as Louis one-handedly flipped his stud open, fingers gripping his zipper.

 

"Harry..." he breathed against his cheek, kissing below his swollen lower lip.

 

Harry nodded, feeling his zip being tugged down, the release of the material a welcome reprieve for his swollen need. His lips were harsh against Louis' as he rolled into another kiss, biting at his lush little mouth and rocking into his touch.

 

"Louis," he tugged at Louis' jeans belt-loop breathily, eyes rolling back as Louis tucked down his jeans and then his boxers, fingertips glancing over him, cool and delicate.

 

Louis 'shh'd' him, pushing against Harry's chest to have a look, to see the deep flushed pink of Harry's hard dick, the way he was hard and curving strongly beneath his too-small hand.

 

His worried blue eyes flicked up.

 

"I can't...you're big," he gasped.

 

Harry curved Louis' fingers around himself, meeting his gaze.

 

"Please. I want you to." He assured with a shaky thickness to his voice.

 

Louis nodded. He wanted to, too. More than anything. He swept Harry's lips into another kiss, undoing his own jeans to assist Harry's trembling hands, whining helplessly when Harry's hand burrowed down to tug at him, firm and assured. And it was so hot. The fact Harry's skin was flushed, his jumper tugged hallway up his body, his t-shirt pooling at his waist while Louis' hand twisted and slid up and down his shaft while the nervous boy tangled with him stroked him with a determination he'd never seen before.

 

Harry wanted Louis to get off, the same way Louis wanted to get Harry off. If he kept biting his lips and fluttering his eyes closed with soft whimpers, it wasn't going to take very long for him to achieve his objective.

 

"Harry, _Jesus_ ," Louis grasped the back of his hair and ravaged a kiss from his dark pink lips, dragging his own down Harry's throat.

 

"Lou," he croaked weakly, pushing into Louis' tightening hand.

 

Louis chucked out an almost- amused breath as pleasure skittered across his skin, his own body tight in Harry's hand being worked equally slowly, just as intense. A hot flush worked over his skin, burning him up and an answering heat emanated from Harry, his squirming body urging for release.

 

"Yeah...yeah come on, Harold," Louis murmured softly.

 

Harry cupped his jaw and kissed him, bringing Louis' desire dark eyes fluttering open as his lips parted to suck in a shocked breath of bliss. Louis' breath stuttered out, lids closing heavily.

 

"So pretty," Harry mumbled, pressing his lips to Louis'. "So pretty Lou..."

 

"Who-" Louis rushed out, gasping again, tugging Harry and rolling his hips to gain his own pleasure. "Who you calling pretty," he whispered, his lips seared by Harry's kiss, sealing them together in a bounty of tumultuous gratification.

 

"You," Harry groaned lowly, voice roughened with desire and- "Ah... _Lou_!"

 

Louis rutted and whined as his own peak hit about a second after Harry's, their bodies pressing close as their hands grasped in unison, lips pressed together with open mouths, not kissing, just breathing, air exchanging into each other's mouths.

 

" _Louis_ ," Harry sighed blissfully as Louis slowly stroked him through it, fingertips wet with come from Harry's release.

 

Louis smiled devilishly, kissing high on Harry's cheek as Harry's wrist weakened and lay limp against his jeans.

 

"Jesus," Louis panted finally, a giggle breathed through his lips.

 

Harry groaned, flopping about in the bare inches he could actually move in.

 

"Hey," Louis tightened his arms around him, reverting back to stroking a gentle hand down his back and through his curls with sticky fingers.

 

Harry swallowed, his throat bobbing as he worked his eyes back to Louis', staring into them.

 

Thick, almost-feminine lashes sooted Louis' eyelids. His blue eyes- _tinged with grey_ \- were sometimes intense, sometimes cautious and sometimes narrowed but now they were wide and vulnerable.

 

He watched Louis' lips press together, thin upper lip and full lower lip; puffy with the pressure of their kisses. He swooped down to sip at them.

 

"Louis," he whispered.

 

Louis smiled, combing through his hair, kissing beside his mouth.

 

"I know," he hummed, skin buzzing with little aftershocks of pleasure.

 

Harry slipped his big arms around him and cuddled in close, nosing into his neck.

 

"Stay a while?" He asked quietly.

 

Louis settled his heavy thigh between Harry's, their half-dressed torsos pressing together.

 

"Of course," he assured, lips to Harry's temple as Harry wriggled into a  comfortable burrow.

 

//

 

Louis stayed a long while.

 

//

 

 


End file.
